


A Stanza of Rachis and Vane

by whatacartouchebag



Series: Fair Game Week 2020 [4]
Category: RWBY
Genre: M/M, Nothing explicit, fairgameweek2020, they get a little handsy here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:33:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23213335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatacartouchebag/pseuds/whatacartouchebag
Summary: Day Four Challenge - Birds“I'll love you no matter what form you take.”“Bird and all..?”The breath of a laugh slipped from him. “Brat and all...” he corrected gently.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Series: Fair Game Week 2020 [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1665535
Comments: 7
Kudos: 94





	A Stanza of Rachis and Vane

**Author's Note:**

> What started as one thing very quickly turned to another! This was originally an idea that went it's own way, and I wasn't about to tell it otherwise, so, enjoy these two being loving and soft with one another <3

Clover couldn't help the soft laugh as he sat back languidly on the couch, arms curled loosely in front of him.

“Not what I pictured when you said 'relax together,' you know...” he murmured. Green eyes glanced down at the rather large raven that was practically flopped into his arms, legs curled into the air and red eyes blinking up at him. “But, have to admit... you're kind of cute like this...”

The raven gave a low sound at the words, beak tapping at one of the buttons on his shirt. Clover reached up with his free hand, fingertips smoothing down the bird's head, and earning him a satisfied sound. The feathers felt silken under his touch, almost familiar, and it was a wonderfully soothing motion for both parties.

He brushed down the side of it's head, scritching lightly as he went, and the bird tilted his head back for better access. Oh it  _ liked  _ this.

Fingers were firm, just the right amount of pressure, as they scratched under it's beak and down it's neck, sinking deep into the feathers of it's chest before travelling back up the same path. One talon gave a little twitch at the action, curling loosely in the air.

Clover wasn't sure if birds could purr, but the steady repetition of that low caw meant that he was probably doing something right. Not to mention he hadn't been pecked at yet, so he was taking it as a good sign.

Red eyes closed lightly, showing the man he had it's complete trust, and Clover could only smile down at the little thing.

“Don't go to sleep on me now,” he told it simply, reaching up to run a thumb lightly down a beak. Those eyes blinked back up at him, and lightly mouthed at exposed fingertips, earning it a soft laugh.

“You're precious like this, I hope you know,” Clover told the bird with a broad smile, wiggling fingertips in and out of range, lightly playing with his tiny charge. “And It keeps you out trouble, that's for sure.”

_ That _ drew a reaction from the bird, and feathers fluffed up in sudden indignation.

In a heartbeat, the operative had the breath pushed from him as black feathers scattered about him and hands pressed to his shoulders, a pair of red eyes glaring lightly back at him as the huntsman reappeared. He sat higher than the operative from where he straddled hips, and Clover let his head tilt back to meet that vaguely cranky gaze, unperturbed.

“And what kind of trouble would  _ that  _ be?”

Clover couldn't help the smirk that crossed his lips and he reached up to run fingers through greying strands at his temple, tucking them lightly behind his ear. His eyes followed the action, and he almost gave a soft huff of a laugh when it immediately sprang back out once more. Wild and untameable, just like the rest of him.

“Just your usual brand...”

The soft hum fell from the huntsman's lips and he drew back lightly, still glaring lightly at him in mild scrutiny. Clover couldn't stop the quiet laugh that rolled from him, and hands settled about those hips, thumbs stroking gently.

“Of all the things to get under your skin, you choose  _ that? _ ” he asked, somewhat incredulous. Hands ran upwards from where they sat, gliding over fabric and warm skin beneath, finding his spine and circling light at muscles. “So you agree that you're precious as the bird?”

The soft snort tore from the huntsman, and he resisted the urge to roll his eyes at him. “I'm downright  _ adorable _ as the bird, thank you,” he groused in light retort.

“Mm, that you are...” Clover conceded softly, leaning towards him to brush the tip of his nose to a scratchy chin. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if Qrow would ever consider growing it out some more. Though, his mind also argued, the huntsman probably considered the five o'clock shadow more alluring than the full beard.

That, and he probably didn't want to look at all like Ironwood.

The amusing thought brought the broad smile back to his lips, and Qrow leant down to return the simple nuzzle, fingers slipping upwards from their resting place. He dragged fingertips along the back of the man's neck, threading into short brunet and enjoying the soft feeling, before retreating gently and settling about his jaw.

“You gonna tell me why?”

It was light with tease and more than a hook, Clover knew. He made a show of tilting his head to the side, thinking hard about the question, and earning him a breathy laugh, lips grazing his forehead.

“Don't be shy,” came the gentle press. “Tell me.”

“Maybe it's how quiet it is when you're not running your mouth,” Clover told him softly, blunt and straight for the throat. He paused for a moment. “Or maybe it's the way you're far more of a brat as the bird.”

Red eyes stared back at him, nonplussed.

“The way you keep stealing my pin-”

“Gods, enough,” Qrow cut him off with a huff, turning away to hide the faint curl of his smile.

“Or the fact you make a good alarm clock-”

“Stop it! Alright! I'm sorry I asked,” the huntsman couldn't stop the laugh that spilled from him. “I take back every nice thing I ever told you...” he added with a quiet huff. The operative joined him in the warm laughter, letting his hands travel further downwards once more, finding the hem of a shirt and slipping up underneath it, skin bleeding warmth across fingertips.

He let the huntsman's eyes meet his own once more, and he held his gaze for a few heartbeats of time. Green eyes closed as he leant forward, brushing his nose against the pulse within a bare neck, lips grazing skin.

Qrow found the ghost of a smile upon his lips as he slid hands back into short brunet hair, fingertips dragging just so across the man's scalp, and earning him a satisfied breath of sound.

“I enjoy watching you fly.”

The murmur of a voice bled across his skin, punctuated by the gentle press of lips there, and red eyes fluttered closed at the gentle feeling.

“Watching you soar through the sky...”

Another kiss, lingering and open-mouthed against his neck, wringing the skitter of sensation through his skin and forcing him to drag a deeper breath across his tongue. It held tight in his chest for a moment before the sigh slowly left him. Clover smiled warmly against him as fingers curled tighter into his hair.

“Seeing you turn the clouds into your personal playground.”

The words brushed almost languidly along his neck as fingers travelled higher up his spine, pushing his shirt up with the action and scoring nails along warm skin, drawing that soft hitch of breath from him once more. Lips dragged further upwards, finding the curve of his jaw and pressing gently there.

“Free as a bird...” The throaty rumble of a laugh brushed against Qrow's skin, the operative amused at his own pun. “Gorgeous...”

The huntsman had to blink red eyes open as he sat there, heat flushing through him from more than just the simple words that fell from lips. He swallowed lightly, letting his fingers relax a little. He had not expected this turn of events  _ at all _ , and damn the man for having such a honeyed tongue.

“Anything else..?” he all but breathed, almost forgetting what speech felt like.

There was a soft hum against his skin, and his heart almost skittered at the sound.

Fingers slipped down his spine once more, dragging the press of fingertips deeply across muscle and letting his shirt settle again. Hands smoothed over the top of fabric, travelling upwards, higher and higher to settle at the base of his neck.

“The colour of your feathers.”

The gentle spill of words began anew, and Qrow let his eyes sliver closed once more. Fingertips teased the hair at the nape of his neck and he easily tilted his head back, giving them all the access they wanted.

It was all the answer they needed, and they threaded lightly into dark strands, as warm breath gently skirted his throat.

“The way they shine in the light... The same way as your hair...”

Clover pressed his lips to the huntsman's throat, feeling it shift and bob as he swallowed again. The operative smiled to himself, drawing back lightly to brush the tip of his nose against the same place.

“How soft they are... Silken...”

Fingers curled into dark hair, tightening lightly and dragging the almost aching groan from the huntsman, returning the favour into short brunet strands. It was a dangerous game Qrow had started, he knew now.

But his mind had stuttered to a quiet stop, quickly abandoning him as soon as fingers found his skin and lips followed suit, bleeding warmth and honeyed words across his senses.

He drew in a steadying breath, knowing he had to draw back from the sensation lest he lose the game, and he lowered his head finally, meeting green eyes. How easy it would be to simply fall into those eyes and drink deep from those lips, he thought.

How easy it would be...

Qrow threaded his hands back from brunet hair, curling about the warmth of his neck. The smile found his lips as he leant in, feeling the gentle brush of Clover's against his.

“Anything else..?”

The same breath of a question fell from him and green eyes ducked between his, searching darkened red. The moment was stolen from him, as Qrow shifted, placing his lips gently to the curve of a cheek, savouring the warmth of his skin and lingering there.

He could  _ also  _ turn the tables on a whim.

The faint quirk of a smile found the corner of his mouth as he moved, brushing lips across a cheekbone and towards the shell of his ear, nose dragging lightly against short hair.

“Don't be shy...”

Lips drew the edge of his ear between them, teeth grazing lightly.

There was a soft exhale from the man, and he felt fingers tighten in dark strands. Clover, too, was silently cursing the fact he'd chosen to play this game with the huntsman. Someone who'd had years of experience in giving as good as he got, regardless of what that meant.

It was always just a tease of seeing who could go that one step further between them. About knowing what would balance the scales, and what would send them careening and crashing to the side.

It was a thrill like none other and they both relished in it.

“Mm... can't think of anything else...” he murmured against Qrow's own ear. “Kind of... drawing a blank at the moment...”

The breathy laugh found his senses, sending the warm sensation down his spine and bringing the smile to his lips.

“That's what you get for calling the bird a bigger brat...”

With finality, Qrow drew back from him, smug smirk firmly on his entire expression as he met that gaze. Just like that, he'd lowered the hammer entirely on this game of theirs, and Clover could only blink back at him as he was jarred back to reality once more. The furrow found his brow as he sighed lightly through his nose.

“How could I ever forget...”

He withdrew a hand from dark strands, reaching up to brush the back of fingers across a cheek as his other hand slipped down to settle at the huntsman's waist.

“Guess I  _ was _ overdue for my casual reminder, huh?” he added, green eyes watching as he traced down to a jaw. He allowed another quiet slip of a sigh to escape from him, and the lines of his frown melted away.

Qrow watched him with silent adoration as his thumb stroked the warm column of the man's neck. That brow had never held anger, and he knew it; annoyance, perhaps. Frustration. But anger was a foreign emotion to him. He wore his emotions proudly, and Clover's expression was never a guarded creature; quite the opposite, in fact, and he knew nearly everything that went on in the man's head because of it.

“Though... if I'm being honest...”

The quiet words continued as fingers tucked under his chin, catching his attention fully. Green eyes smiled warmly back at him as lips brushed his own.

“You're precious,” he murmured against skin. “Because I adore the sounds you make... and I love learning what each of them mean.” Red eyes blinked languidly back at him for a moment, and he drew back a little to meet his gaze properly, realising full well what he was saying.

Clover could only smile further at him, warmth gracing his very expression. Fingers travelled further down the huntsman's throat, tracing their journey with his eyes once more.

“I enjoy watching you have fun and get up to mischief, even if it's at my own expense,” he continued, fingertips settling at the hollow where collarbones met. “Because seeing you happy is the only thing I could ever want.”

Qrow felt his chest tighten at the gentle words, all words on his tongue turning to ash as Clover continued.

“Watching you play with my pin,” the operative nearly laughed at a memory. “Carrying it around like your own little trophy as you sing to yourself.”

Green eyes flitted back up to red for a handful of time. “And don't think I haven't noticed  _ you  _ trying it on, either.” Colour brushed along cheeks and Qrow glanced away for a moment, knowing the exact moment Clover spoke of. Well,  _ moments _ , really.

Fingers slipped further back, skirting under his collar and sliding to the back of his neck, teasing the start of dark hair once more.

“And when you sit at the window before dawn, calling to the sun and wanting freedom... who am I to say no to that?”

Qrow could only swallow lightly as Clover drew them together once more, foreheads pressing flush to one another as their eyes refused to part. He hadn't really thought- Well, no, that was a lie. His mind ran all too often over what Clover thought about the raven. But to hear it all laid out for him just so...

Even with everything he said earlier...

That colour sat firmly upon his skin, and the operative could only give a breathy laugh at his embarrassment. Lips grazed the corner of his mouth, fingertips curling lightly in dark hair.

“I'll love you no matter what form you take,” he breathed against him.

Qrow resisted the urge to squirm where he sat, but gods above, the man had no right whatsoever to  _ still _ find ways to get under his skin. He was utterly precise at where he struck and downright uncanny with knowing exactly what to say.

It caught in his chest like a cough wanting to escape, and burrowed into his sternum. He returned the gentle press of lips, feeling his knots unravel, feeling his tangled thoughts fray. Feeling the man sift his fingers through the strings of his heart, as easily as the wind through his feathers.

“Bird and all..?”

The words breathed in almost hesitant question against lips, and Clover's heart ached in adoration for the huntsman. His fingers curled where they sat, holding him tight and refusing to let go as the breathy laugh slipped from him.

“ _ Brat  _ and all...” he corrected gently.

Fingers grazed his cheek softly, warm smile finding red eyes.

“I can live with that...”


End file.
